Singled Out
When Michaela gives up on finding a soul mate, her guardian angel works overtime to bring her together with the man of her dreams.
Tim Lassiter has been wanting to get closer to Michaela, his co-worker, but she's uninterested in fishing in the company pool. How is he going to change her mind when she views him as the jerk she works with?
With a little divine intervention, Tim and Michaela may find true love after all.
My Guardian Angel is out to lunch. Michaela wrinkled her nose at the caller ID on her cell phone. It was Dan number two. At forty-three, she was getting tired of the weird rules surrounding dating these days.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Michaela. It’s Dan.”
“How are you?” No matter how she tried, she couldn’t get enthusiasm in her voice.
“I’m really sorry about last Sunday but...”
Michaela quit listening to him. Her mind wandered as Dan number two made excuse after excuse. Men were just odd. They’d ask for her number and never call. If they did call her, they’d set up dates and break them. She was beginning to think there was something wrong with her.
Dan number one broke a date in order to have dinner with his ex.
Dan number three calls her drunk every Friday night.
READ MORESighing, Michaela finally interrupted the load of crap flowing over the airwaves through her phone. “You know what, Dan? I’m not waiting around the phone. Your chance has come and gone. Sorry.”
She clicked her phone shut and got in her work van. What a lousy Monday. Driving through the streets of Eureka, California, she took stock of her dating career. Two times divorced, three kids all grown, and a job she enjoyed, Michaela Johnston really wasn’t looking for anyone to fill a void. She was content to be single, but it would be nice to have a date every once and a while. Valentine’s Day was looming and there were no prospects on her horizon.
Raising her three kids as a single mom and finding a man at the same time had been almost impossible. Now, completely free and independent, it was still impossible.
It didn’t help that she worked in the bars. Well, she was a salesperson for the local beer and wine distributor. All the guys she met were either sitting on a barstool at ten in the morning, or bartending at night. What chance did she have to meet a nice man who would go to Aerosmith concerts with her and cuddle on the weekends?
The last month she’d had three men, all named Dan, ask her out and then bail on her. Whatever. Her track record wasn’t exactly encouraging.
Pulling into the Beverage Eureka parking lot, she gathered up her orders and notes and headed into the office. Thank God this day was almost over.
* * * * *
Thomas woke up with a horrible headache and felt nauseous. Damn! That drinking he did the night before was— If he was honest with himself, he hadn’t been sober in centuries. A new year, and he didn’t remember ringing it in.
His Angel email was beeping at him.
Pulling himself upright, he shook his wings. Dirty white feathers drifted down on his lap. His head hurt, his body was sore, and he was miserable. Why did they make him a Guardian Angel anyway? Well, yes, it was the worst duty he could have gotten. Most Angels felt punished getting the second timers. Facing facts, Thomas realized that the years he spent getting drunk and playing tricks on humans were coming back to haunt him. The bosses weren’t happy when he messed with Helen of Troy. It was fun to play with human emotions then, but the results weren’t exactly what he planned.
So, the bosses stuck him in a quiet corner of heaven and gave him impossible assignments. Second timers. Humans that didn’t connect with their soul mates early in life and needed guidance to find them.
With a pounding head, he stumbled to his computer. Logging in, he tried to clear the fog in his brain. That silly woman, Helen, wasn’t worth this.
Of course, being a Guardian Angel was better than the “fiery” alternative.
Sighing, Thomas opened his email.
Days of backed up requests met his eyes. There was that woman Michaela again. Shaking his head, Thomas tried to clear his blurry vision. She was a problem. The man upstairs assigned him to get her together with her soul mate, and Thomas was blowing it. It was a short name, but he couldn’t remember it. He’d tried John, Mitch, Joe and now Dan. All of them were failures. If only he could remember what the name of that stupid mortal was.
His white phone shrilled, setting the pounding in his head to new heights.
“Yes,” he mumbled into the receiver.
“Thomas?”
Uh oh. It was the big boss.
“Yessir?” Trying to keep his words from slurring, he sounded drunker than ever.
“The Administration has had complaints about you again. It’s time. After centuries of screwing up, you’re being sent to Angel Rehab.”
“What?” He opened his eyes, and his stomach churned.
“You heard me. You’ve got two hours to report to Angel Rehab, or we’re yanking your Angel status, and you know what that means.” The disembodied voice sounded threatening. Thomas had no doubt where he’d end up. Cooked Thomas was in his future if he didn’t straighten up.
“Two hours! But I have work to do. I have people waiting on me.”
“All your assignments will be put on hold. Do us a favor and clean your wings, will you?” The phone went dead.
Thomas groaned.
COLLAPSE